


At The Bottom Of The Mirror

by Squeemish



Series: Lizard Love Prompts From The Tumblr [11]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: AU Mirrorverse, All Mirror Characters Are OOC, Because I Am Not A Fan of Canon MV, EDIT: Fixed This A Lot So A Reread Is Adviced, Fluff, Gen, Getting Together, Lizard Tush Appreciation, M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-03 02:19:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17275253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeemish/pseuds/Squeemish
Summary: Dialogue Prompts: “People have been talking, you know. None of it’s good.” and “If I could turn back time and start over, I would. Believe me.”Julian gives medical care for his Mirror counterpart, and is taken aback by the relationship between him and Mirror Garak.





	At The Bottom Of The Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> I EDITED BECAUSE IT NEEDED TO BE.

**Dialogue Prompts: “People have been talking, you know. None of it’s good.” and “If I could turn back time and start over, I would. Believe me.”**

  
His hair was much longer.

It’s what Julian noticed the most as he ran the tricorder over the eerily familiar face; the length of his hair, the deep, worried line between his brows, _the beard_.

“Well?” He croaked, “Can you fix me?”

“You have pneumonia and several infections,” Julian unlocked his medkit and dug out a hypospray, “Which means it'll take me about three minutes to fix you.”

Jules scoffed and shut his eyes. Tacky strings if saliva glistened on his teeth, grin scornful.

“People have been talking, you know. None of it’s good,” He inhaled weakly then swallowed, adam's apple jerking up in his throat, “The doc said I'd die soon.”

“He's an idiot. Do the people here even say good things?”

“Maybe your good is different from mine,” said Jules, wincing when Julian pressed the hypospray to his neck, “We're not very alike anyway, are we?”

“Not that I can tell.” The bristly nest over Jules’ face was enough prove of that. Hopefully the attitude as well. Julian gathered his equipment back in the kit and stood, pulling his sleeves down, “All done. How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“You should keep resting for a couple of more days. Gather your strength.”

“Sure.”

Jadzia’s brows quirked up as Julian fell against the wall next to her. She had her arms crossed, eyes travelling between him and Jules, who didn’t actually look that much better, still soaked in sweat and lying limp over the ratty mattress.

“Will he be alright?” She asked quietly.

“Yes. Will we?”

“The journey back should work the same as before, once our pod is done,” She smirked, and jabbed his arm with an elbow, “Nice beard.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll go see if they need help with the repairs,” Jadzia pushed herself off the wall and tilted her head toward the door, “Coming?”

“I'll stay awhile, check he's in the clear. It takes a few minutes for the meds to work.”

Loitering by the wall grew tiresome fast, and so Julian whipped out the tricorder, standing over Jules to get a better reading. The fever had gone down, and Julian thought the furrow of his brow wasn’t quite as severe as it had been, the expression almost peaceful.

Strong hands bit into his arms.

“Jules, you're up-” He was swirled around, a cold touch caressing his cheek; Julian stared wide eyed at the face he knew almost as well as his own, breathless from the sudden, firm embrace. Garak’s hand froze and withdrew, eyes turning to ice.

“Sorry,” Julian stepped away, trembling, “No beard.”

From the floor came a cackling laugh.

“Seems you can't tell my arse apart from the rest as well as you thought.”

The not Garak kneeled by the mattress, hand reaching to cup Jules’ cheek.

“You're no longer burning.”

“Your sweetheart fixed me,” Jules rubbed Garak’s chest, speaking in a hushed tone, “Go get me food. I won't move, so you can't claim accident if you grope someone in the corridors.”

Julian watched with an increasing flush as Garak kissed Jules, fingers entwined in the long, sweaty curls, where they tugged and pulled low gasps out of his counterpart. The wet sounds crept up Julian’s spine and he swallowed, mouth dry as his heart pounded, shivers of heat and the beginning of sweat prickling his skin. He quickly turned his back to them, politely trying to disappear till Garak finally left, eyes flashing with warning as he passed.

“Do you have him?” asked Jules, voice less hoarse. Julian frowned.

“Sorry?”

“Elim. Is there a version of him, in your universe?”

“There is," Julian admitted with some reluctance, "We usually call him Garak.”

“Hot, isn't he.”

They were not the same, Julian decided, cheeks ablaze as he shoved his face to the the tricorder, rereading the positively fascinating data few times over.

“Really?” He coughed, punching buttons at random, “Haven’t noticed.”

“I did, the moment he slithered here. Fucking hated him, too. Didn’t like how we just took in a Cardassian, trusted him so easily. And he kept staring at me,” Jules snorted, “Told him to quit it and he did. A month later I had a long day and didn't want to sleep alone, so I let him crawl in here with me.”

His voice drifted to a soft drawl when he spoke, eyes glazed in memory. The expression took Julian by surprise; suddenly they looked more alike, though Jules still had a bleakness about him that Julian had never seen in himself, and ideally never would. And the thing bringing them closer was Garak, who in this universe seemed so far to be the only one Jules didn't verbally spit at on sight. Julian found himself little touched by the thought, and also regretful over his pettiness toward his much suffered mirror image, carrying a name that raised bile to his throat. 

“How long have you been together?” asked Julian, tentative. His caution made Jules stare and huff in amusement. 

“Almost five years,” He said, then smiled sadly, “If I could turn back time and start over, I would. Believe me. I treated him like shit the first couple of months. And he put up with it. Had no choice but to.” A chill shot through Julian. 

“You forced him?” He gripped the tricorder, knuckles white, while Jules looked calmly at the ceiling. 

“No," Came the quiet answer, "He just loved me before I loved him.”

Elim returned, a bottle of water and rations in hand. Behind him, Jadzia made a curvy motion with her hands and pointed at his lower, _lower_ back, winking and gesturing lewdly. Julian lunged at her, shushing, and slapped her hands till they ceased.

“The pod is almost ready,” She said, “Miles and Smiley are finishing it up now.”

Julian nodded, still glaring, and turned to tell his farewells. He ended up saying nothing, too stunned and horrified at the scene before him.

Elim lied on top of Jules, head buried in his neck. Heavy, wet breaths passed his parted lips, the front of Jules’ shirt clenched in a fist as his hips grinded a slow rhythm. But it was Jules’ hands that caused Julian most distress; one down Elim’s trousers, visibly squeezing his ass while the other kneaded the right shoulder.

“Oh my,” Jadzia’s evil brow rose up as she nodded her approval, “He's really going for it.”

“Leaving!" Julian grabbed her by the shoulders and marched her out of the room, ”Right now.”

 

“Doctor!” Garak exclaimed, delighted, “You have returned from your venture at last. I must say, it was disappointing to find you late for our weekly lunch, but no matter, we'll make up for it I'm sure.”

“Glad to know I was missed.” It had always moved him, finding Garak waiting for his arrival. Even more so now, as Jules' final words rang through his head. 

“Why of course," Garak smiled, "There aren't many on this station willing to discuss the themes of Iloja’s poetry.” He followed Julian, all the way to his door, “Would tomorrow be suitable? Unless you require more rest from your ordeals?”

“Tomorrow is fine,” Julian mumbled, distracted. His eyes slipped lower, down the intricate pattern of Garak’s shirt, his arm stretching forward. Pulled in, like a helpless meteor to a moon. He grabbed Garak’s firm arse and looked up at him, lashes fluttering.

“Would you like to come in and discuss poetry?”

 

The computer woke him at 07:00. Yawning, Julian rolled out of bed, and bent to give Garak’s bare shoulder a kiss. There was a lazy hum and Garak slid to lie in the warm space left behind, rubbing his face in the pillow.

He stepped out of the shower, towel tied to his hips and picked up the razor. A week had made his cheeks and chin dark already. Itchy, too, but not unbearably so. Julian scratched and rubbed his rough cheek, considering, and then put the razor back in the cabinet. Soon he burst into laughter, snatched by his waist into strong arms, hauling him back to bed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I think Garak's bottom being luscious might be considered AU for many, butt I'll stand behind this headcanon.


End file.
